


A Soul To Warm

by Erratic_Daydreamer



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, F/F, M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Polyamory, Spitroasting, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-11
Updated: 2014-12-13
Packaged: 2018-02-25 01:22:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2603360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erratic_Daydreamer/pseuds/Erratic_Daydreamer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was a permanent warmth and light to Trost that had people travelling from near and far to see the main city. With its flourishing wildlife and bustling marketplace, the small country made a perfect vacation spot and existed as the trading capital of the world. It proudly held a history of peace, always a neutral party and refusing to partake in petty spats or choose sides in the wars. Ruled by the Kirschstein family, everything was perfectly aligned. Whenever the King and Queen were sent away for business with the other countries, Jean ruled competently in their stead with his best friend and advisor Marco at his side. For years everything had remained exactly as it should be until, unbeknownst to anyone, one small blonde sent it spiraling out of order.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for this being a bit rushed and possibly all over the place? I'm terrible at staying with one train of thought while writing. Anyway, welcome to everyone loves Armin. More tags will be added as the story progressions, including other relationships. Main focus is on combinations of Armin/Marco/Jean. Constructive criticism, kudos, comments, etc are SO SO SO SO SO WELCOME AND WANTED. Seriously. Please. Pretty please. I'll love you. Best way to contact me for anything is via the tumblr on my profile. I hope you enjoy the beginning of the story and have a beautiful day~ ^^

There was a permanent warmth and light to Trost that had people travelling from near and far to see the main city. With its flourishing wildlife and bustling marketplace, the small country made a perfect vacation spot and existed as the trading capital of the world. It proudly held a history of peace, always a neutral party and refusing to partake in petty spats or choose sides in the wars. Ruled by the Kirschstein family, everything was perfectly aligned. There were five royals, Maria and Alec who sat at the head as Queen and King respectively. An arranged marriage that had worked perfectly as the young princess fell head over heels for the foreign noble boy and from there it was history. They did nothing short of adoring their three children, the eldest Jean at eighteen and two younger twins, Lilly and Benjamin who were in the midst of their terrible sevens. They were what most would call a perfect family. Whenever the King and Queen were sent away for business with the other countries, Jean ruled competently in their stead with his best friend and advisor Marco at his side. For years everything had remained exactly as it should be until, unbeknownst to anyone, one small blonde sent it spiraling out of order.

And it started when he was thrown roughly at the feet of the prince. Sniveling and biting back tears, Armin Arlert pressed his forehead into the marble tiles of the palace he had been dragged to. It was a stupid mistake, a small one. He should never have listened to Eren and his stupid habit of ‘if you want it, just take it’. He was going to be locked in prison for the rest of his life over a book. Or worse, the noble man would have him executed. The thought had a choked sob being pulled from his lips and he didn’t dare look up at the prince, but had he Armin would have caught the golden eyes that bore into his figure as the prince stared down at him in confusion. The silence in the room was deafening until Jean finally cast a glance at Marco, all furrowed brows and blatant confusion before turning back to the noble man. “…What?” Marco was tempted to slap a hand to his forehead at the response.

“I said that this boy attempted to steal from me. I am a guest of the crown here in Trost and one would think I’d be treated with a bit more respect from the stand in king, young prince. I want his head.” It was almost funny to Jean, how all the old noble men turned almost purple as they got worked up, but he didn’t dare laugh lest he be scolded by Marco in front of the royal court. Turning his eyes back down from the noble man to the boy, he frowned. Armin was shirtless, bruises, scrapes and scars openly littered his trembling form and his hair lay in mats against his head, dirty and raggedly cut. Jean couldn’t see his face with the way the blonde was trying to burrow himself into the floor, but he was obviously a street boy though he didn’t strike the prince as the stealing type.

Jean was cut out of his examination as a foot collided with the boy’s ribs, sending him sprawling and scrambling to curl into himself in order to protect the more important parts of his body. Armin tried to bite back the undignified whimper that was torn from his throat at the hit, but had to listen as it echoed against the walls of the palace, trying to hide his face in his knees. When he dared to glance up through tear-blurred eyes, he was struck with the vision of the noble man barreling towards him again, his expression telling of the fury and aggression he planned to take out through Armin’s body. Holding in sobs, the blonde burrowed his hands into his tangled up hair, trying to find some protection in the fetal position. The foot raised, paused, and swung down again, only to freeze several inches away from Armin’s shaking form when the prince’s voice rang out. 

“Put your foot down, there’s no need to bloody up my parent’s hall over something so petty as failing to steal.” He spat, narrowing his eyes at the unknown man and boy before him. “We do not execute for stealing in Trost. The greatest punishment is the loss of the offender’s primary hand.” Jean resisted the urge to flinch at the way the blonde shook at the words, curling farther into himself. “If you’re so concerned about his punishment, it will be doled out in the palace as service to my family where he will be closely supervised until he has worked off the price of whatever he attempted to steal with interest.” His voice was bland as he spoke, as if he had memorized the words from a book and was tired of reciting them back constantly. But the way the noble man’s face twisted into a smirk at the words almost made the prince scowl back as a hideous laugh followed the expression. “My prince, what this rat stole, or attempted to, is priceless; it is a book that has been passed down in my family for generations and it prized across the globe as being one of a kind.”

Chubby hands splayed out over the figure as he spoke, the man’s expression was one of a cat who had gotten the cream, but it was Marco who spoke up with his voice like ice, a tone he rarely took that sent shivers down the spines of everyone in the room. “Your prince just informed you of what that boy’s punishment would be. Are you questioning him? Be careful how you answer, do so incorrectly and you may find yourself with the label of being a traitor.” There was a pause where the noble man gasped like a fish, his mouth opening and closing as he grasped for words that refused to come. “I thought not. You are dismissed, he will stay here. Go. Now.” The final words were spat out as the man nodded and bowed, hastily backing away. But Armin didn’t dare move; he remained curled in a ball where he had been kicked, unable to muster up the courage to even look at the men who remained in the room. One after another, the court dismissed themselves, having kept silent for the proceedings and when the final man left the room, Jean let out an exasperated sigh.

Two sets of eyes were glued to Armin’s figure, as if they were waiting for him to stand or speak or do something other than tremble where he lay. Finally, it was Marco who moved once again to kneel in front of the blonde and carefully brush his tangled hair away from his face, refusing to cringe and the apparent grease that clung to it. Who knew when the last time the boy had a chance to bathe properly was…if ever. “Look at me.” It was a command, but the freckled man’s voice was gentle as he waited for the smaller boy to obey. Slowly, he moved to look up, stunning blue eyes still swimming with unshed tears and there was an unspoken fear in them that tugged on every heartstring Marco had. He knew Jean was watching them closely as well. After all, Marco was his best friend and knew him well enough to know that the crown prince would never offer a criminal a place in the palace unless he was interested in them. 

Running the backs of his fingers over Armin’s cheek, he cooed quiet praise while slowly coaxing the blonde to stand. He was tiny, his growth probably stunted by malnutrition that was apparent by the way his bones pressed against his skin as if they were trying to escape. Really, he was quite the pitiful thing to look at, but Jean looked for what felt like hours at the ragged boy in front of him. For all the praise his family received, Trost wasn’t short on starving orphans or people who walked the streets begging and stealing. Finally, he gave a nod to Marco, though his eyes didn’t move from the blonde who was once again staring intently at his own feet. 

With a bright smile, Marco coaxed Armin to leave the room and began down the long halls, towards the servant’s bathing quarters. “What’s your name?” His voice was gentle as he guided the smaller body to sit just outside of the bath. Pool. The blonde thought as he chewed on his bottom lip, watching the unnamed freckled man gather items to wash him with. It wasn’t a bath, it was a shallow pool. “Armin Arlert, sir.” He finally spoke quietly, ducking his head down while he fiddled with his thumbs and made a bloody mess of his lip. That is, until Marco literally grabbed it and pulled it from between his teeth. “Good. I’m Marco, Prince Jean’s advisor. Now please don’t do that, we’re trying to get you clean, not bloodier.” Though his voice remained gentle, there was an undeniable air about it that demanded obedience and Armin nodded in response, forcing himself to stop fidgeting.   
Marco worked him over diligently, first rinsing him off several times over outside of the bath before determining him clean enough to step into the actual pool of water. Once he was situated (and blushing a bright red from having to strip in front of a stranger), Marco took a cloth that was somehow more gentle than anything Armin had felt before and carefully moved over his body with a soap that smelled like lavender. He had to be presentable if he was to work in the palace; the advisor had told him when he once again began to squirm uncomfortably. It was a simple enough process, though it took longer for Marco to avoid any scraped or bruises that marred his light skin. However, next came his hair and the matted mess wasn’t going anywhere without a fight.

An hour and plenty of colorful cuss words from Marco later, Armin was sitting comfortably and more relaxed than he had been in years atop silk pillows while the occasional snip sounded from the scissors Marco was using to style his hair. And then it was done. “Stand and face me, I want to look at you for real now.” Again, Marco gently commanded the boy with a bright smile, which softened slightly as he took in the way Armin still blushed and covered himself. This time, he made no move to stop the blonde, slowly circling around him as the redness spread from his cheeks down to the top of his chest. “Cute.” Came the final score from Marco as he once again brushed his fingers against Armin’s cheek, marveling at how soft his skin was despite the harsh living conditions he had admitted to. “Now we just need to find you some fitting clothing. Come.” 

As Marco headed towards the door, Armin stayed rooted in place, only daring to speak up when the freckled man paused and turned to look back at him. “U-um I…you’re going…I have to go out there live this?” He almost whimpered, gesturing to his nakedness. “W-what if someone sees?” Marco blinked several times before beaming again. He really was too cute. Humility wasn’t something frequently found in the palace, as most of the servants were essentially raised there. In three long strides, the brunette was in front of the blonde and had pulled his shirt off and over Armin’s head, smoothing it down over the much smaller frame. It looked more like a dress on him and Marco knew he should have just made Armin follow him, broken him of the humility sooner rather than later, but it was charming in a way. Something Jean may enjoy. 

Armin shuffled quietly behind Marco as he expertly navigated the palace, trying to take in the obscenely expensive décor and the fact he was alive. The prince hadn’t killed him. The prince had given him a place to stay and food to eat and a bath in exchange for stealing. Armin couldn’t believe his luck. But there was still worry. He wasn’t safe and Eren and Mikasa were probably tearing apart Trost looking for him by now. The thought, while cause for concern, sent warmth throughout his veins at the reminder that his friends cared about him. Maybe he would be able to convince Marco to let them work as well…but those thoughts were getting far ahead of himself and before he knew it they had stopped at a kitchen. Kitchen? Furrowing his eyebrows slightly, Armin looked up at Marco for some explanation, but only got a smile in response before the freckled advisor called out.   
“Annie! Bertholdt!” There was a shuffling of feet and suddenly two more people were looking down at Armin, one with eyes as cold as ice and the other with a meek curiosity. If there was one thing the blonde had gathered from his extremely short time in the palace, it was that everyone who worked there was stunning. The woman, Annie he assumed, was petite like Armin and had blonde hair pulled up into a bun, but her stare had him squirming and moving behind Marco. Bertholdt, on the other hand, was taller than just about anyone Armin had seen before, but seemed to curl into himself, a shy gesture Armin recognized as one he himself used frequently as well. And, unlike Annie, Bertholdt was smiling timidly down at him before they both looked to Marco. 

“This is Armin. He’s going to be the newest worker here, so he needs clothing and something to eat that will fatten him up quickly.” Marco said with his seemingly-typical bright smile. It was Annie who spoke first, giving a sharp nod. “Do you have anything in particular he’s supposed to be seen in? What’s he going to be doing here anyway? I thought we were full on staff.” Her voice was as cold as her eyes and Armin’s fingers twisted in the hem of Marco’s shirt while he stared at the ground, listening in on their conversation. “Anything should be fine, I was thinking he may be able to work the garden, you know, the old one the queen used to have. So if you could find any gloves those would be helpful as well.” It was only when Annie had nodded and disappeared that Armin realized Bertholdt was returning with a steaming hot plate of food. 

Armin’s eyes must have gone wide at the sight, because Marco was laughing and pushing him towards the small table the food was set upon. “Just remember to eat slowly; I don’t want you getting sick. As I’m sure you heard we’ll have you working in the garden. It’s small and was the queen’s hobby several years ago, so everything’s died by now. Tomorrow you can scope it out and we’ll have Reiner help you clear away any dead plants that you need. After that, we’ll need you to write down everything you’d like or need. It can be decorative, but we’d also like you to grow some produce as well to help out the kitchen staff.” 

Marco spoke while Armin downright devoured the plate of food. Everything was warm and perfect and tasted better than anything he remembered, but he was also paying close attention to what was being said and nodding at the right times. Before long, his plate was entirely clean of anything that had been on it and Armin was shuffling his feet again, embarrassed over how quickly he had eaten. He made sure to extensively thank Bertholdt for the delicious food, who had blushed in time with Armin’s until he was dragged off by Marco lest they both be stuck in a cycle of no, thank you. As Marco walked, Armin stared at the muscles on his back, the way they moved beneath his skin and the trail of freckles that littered his body, now able to focus entirely on the advisor since he had been bathed and fed. 

Really, he had been damn accurate when he said everyone in the palace was attractive. And then he ran into a wall. No, not a wall, a person. Who ha-oh. Oh. Glancing up, Armin immediately sputtered and scrambled backwards, tripping over his feet in the process until he was sprawled out on the marble floor again and gaping up at the prince, who looked far too amused by it all. Leaning down, Jean smirked and grabbed Armin’s chin. The blonde could see Marco laughing quietly at him from the corner of his eye and suddenly Armin was blushing scarlet again and would have bowed his head in shame if Jean didn’t have such a strong grip on him. “I thought so. You clean up beautifully.” Jean continued to pull his chin up until Armin was standing in front of him, completely captivated by the stunning prince who was still smirking wickedly at him. “Name?”

After several long moments of silence, it was Marco who informed Jean of his name and new position inside of the palace, but the prince’s eyes never once strayed from Armin’s. Finally, the smirk dropped into a smile and he nodded, releasing Armin’s chin before gesturing for Marco to follow him and like that, the prince was headed down the hall without another word, leaving Armin confused and flustered until Marco once again snapped him out of it. “This is your room for now. Get some rest; I’ll wake you in the morning.” With one last smile and a quick ruffle to his hair, Marco followed after Jean, who had paused to wait for his advisor. 

The room was beautiful, more luxurious than anything Armin had ever seen. It was small, yes, but there was a bed all to himself, stacked high with sheets and pillows. Next to it sat a bedside table, then a dresser and a closet. Lastly there was a door that he discovered led to a small, shared bathroom, but the other door was locked and no answer came when he knocked on it. But as soon as Armin hit the sheets, planning to think over the day and take in everything that had happened to him in just a few short hours, he was out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I actually really, really love writing this story. Like, it comes really easily to me and I just kind of get lost in my own head when I'm typing it out and that's pretty rare and really great for me. But, I hope other people out there in the universe enjoy it as well. Anyway, please enjoy this chapter. Kudos, comments, asks on tumblr, prompts, ideas, etc are ALWAYS welcome and very, very appreciated. Have a beautiful day~ ^^

Armin should have woken to Marco as he expected to, especially given how deep in his slumber he was. But living on the streets meant certain habits kicked in, like rising as soon as the sun did. It was something he supposed most people living in a palace wouldn’t have to worry about, so it wasn’t much of a surprise. Blinking sleepy eyes open, he surveyed his room again. It was different this time, he realized. Most noticeably, there was a small vase with flowers sitting on the small bedside table and when he stood to investigate farther; he discovered that all of the drawers in his dresser were full of clothing, as was his closet. The memories of yesterday came back to him in a rush when he glanced down at the barely-there shirt he had worn throughout most of the previous day and Armin could feel his cheeks turn scarlet. Running his fingers over the newly sensitive skin from where the noble man had kicked him, the small blonde once again marveled at his luck.

By all means, he should have been killed on the spot if a noble commanded he be but instead he slept in silk, was fed the best meal he had ever eaten and was cleaner than he could remember. If he had been red before, he was surely purple now as he shivered, the ghosting feel of Marco’s hands on him remained fresh on his skin. With a snap he was up and out of bed, shaking the more than inappropriate thoughts out of his head. Stepping cautiously into the bathroom, he was tempted to knock on his neighbor’s door again before deciding better and simply splashing water over his face. A mirror was hung carefully above the basin and Armin had to do a double take at his appearance. Corn-silk hair was cropped at his collar bones and messy from sleep. Despite the bruises that marred his creamy skin, he could actually _see_ the fairness of it and his eyes were brighter than they had been in years. The baggy shirt he was still sporting hung loosely off his frame, draping him in the expensive material. _Cute,_ he realized. Just as Marco had told him, he looked cute…in a ragged, just-off-the-streets kind of way.

Blushing to himself, he decided that was enough time spent staring at his own reflection and quickly moved back into his room, shutting the door as quietly as possible. Rather than dig through his new clothing, Armin simply grabbed the first shirt and pair of pants he could find, reveling in how it felt to be clothed in something clean for once. They were both simple, much to his relief, though obviously made with an expensive material. Grabbing a small tie, he quickly pulled his hair off of his neck, securing it with a small bow as he slipped out of his room. It was risky, he supposed, not knowing where he was going to go or what he was actually even doing outside of his room.

Shaking off his nerves, he started slowly retracing his steps from the day before back to the kitchen. Bertholdt had seemed nice enough; he might be able to direct Armin towards the garden he was to be working on. The blonde wanted to get a head start on his work in hopes that turning into a hard worker would show the handsome prince how much he appreciated not being executed by the noble man. Cracking open the door to the small eating area in the kitchen, Armin froze as two pairs of eyes were suddenly on him. Before he could back away, or regret leaving his room in the first place, they were on him.

“Are you the new worker here?” “Of course she’s the new worker. And she’s _pretty.”_ “Marco said you’re a thief. You don’t look like a thief to me.” “But maybe that’s her secret; she looks pretty and then steals from you!” “Are you going to steal from us?” “No dummy, she works here now she won’t steal from us. But Marco said you were stealing a book. Does that mean you can read? Will you read to us?” “Yeah! Read to us!” Armin’s mouth opened a closed like a fish as he stared down at the twin prince and princess. She? Before Armin could correct them, small hands were grabbing his own and pulling him towards the table, forcing him to sit down and suddenly they were on his lap, pressing a book into his hands.  

“This one is our favorite, sometimes Jean or Marco read it to us but they’ve both been too busy lately.” “Yeah and sometimes Bert reads it to us but he and Reiner are _busy being nasty in the kitchen.”_ The last few words were whispered out and Armin couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow before looking down at the fairy tale book they pushed into his hands. Their eagerness reminded him of how Eren used to react when they were kids, always begging Armin to read them whatever new book he had gotten his hands on and with two sets of puppy eyes staring up at him, he still couldn’t refuse.

“Okay, okay, what story do you want to hear?” Something in the back of his head reminded him that this was royalty he was talking to, that he should address them as such. “The one about the girl and the wolf and the grandma!” Amazing, he thought, how they spoke in sync without even trying. So Armin smiled at them and flipped to the proper page, quietly reading the surprisingly dark fairy tale to the kids. When he finished, and snapped the book shut with an affirmative noise, they broke into applause, causing Armin to flush slightly, but smile down at them. They were cute kids. But when they stopped clapping, he realized someone else was behind them, clapping as well and whirled around to see none other than the prince watching him with unabashed amusement.

Scrambling for words, he ducked his head low and squeaked out a quiet _“Your highness!”_ keeping his head bowed as the prince chuckled. “Don’t tell me you brats are harassing the new worker already.” God his voice was as beautiful as he was and that chuckle had butterflies dancing in the pit of Armin’s stomach. “We weren’t harassing her.” “Yeah, she agreed to read to us since she’s a book thief.” “She could have said no.” “We didn’t make her say yes.” The twins faced off with the prince, both of their arms crossed defiantly as they stared at him. Raising a perfect eyebrow, Jean crouched down so he was closer to their height. “Yeah? He’s a boy, geniuses.”

That seemed to catch them off guard and they whirled around to face Armin, eyes wide and mouths open. “No way.” “But he’s _pretty.”_ Armin’s face must have been as red as a tomato by then as he tried to curl into himself and hide his face from the three royals. “Yeah, he is. Now get lost, you two, you have lessons. Or do you want me telling mother and father that you’re trying to skip again.” That seemed to be enough to have the two kids scrambling down the halls, yelling something about how they’d get Jean next time and how Armin had to read to them again tomorrow. Armin didn’t dare move, however, when Jean remained in the room, looking at him expectantly. Unsure of what he wanted, the blonde slowly slid from his chair down to the tiles until he was pressing his forehead into them again.

The room was silent for several long moments until Armin felt a hand press his bangs back, and then follow the lines of his face until it was gripping his chin. The grip tightened slightly as it worked similarly to how Marco’s did the other day, pulling him until he was standing before the prince, though Armin didn’t dare meet his gaze. “Let me get a good look at you now.” That deep voice commanded, forcing the blonde to look up as the prince stared at his features. Armin wasn’t sure how long he had been standing there, his head tilted up for Jean to see, until a loud voice at the door interrupted them. Jean’s hand stayed firmly on his chin, keeping his face poised up, but they both turned to look at the intrusion.

A massive blonde stood in the doorway, one arm wrapped around Bertholdt who was blushing darkly and Annie seemed to be glaring at him, scolding him with her expression until they looked up at the scene Armin and Jean made. “Good. Reiner, you’re going to help Armin here clear out mother’s old garden today. Move whatever he asks you to and pile it in the front, I’ll have it disposed of later.” Jean spoke fluidly, but still didn’t release Armin, and he stared at the three other servants until they seemed to take the hint and retreated into the kitchen, leaving Armin and the prince alone once again.

Armin hadn’t moved, but he had pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, worrying it with the amount of pressure it took to calm his nerves and when Jean’s full attention was on him again, the prince frowned. It was small, a slight twitch of his lips and crease in between his brows, but a frown all the same. Pushing his thumb between Armin’s teeth, Jean dipped it slightly into his mouth before he drew his lip out and ran his finger over it slowly. Finally, he released Armin and took a step back away from him. “Annie got gloves for you and Reiner will help you with anything you need in the garden. If you need anything else, try to track down Marco. His quarters are three doors down from yours.” And with that, Jean was off, leaving Armin alone in the room until Reiner poked his head out again with a grin.

After eating another delicious meal cooked by Bertholdt and having the gloves thrown at his face by Annie, Armin was following the massive blonde throughout the palace, trying to memorize the path to the garden. “So the prince likes you, huh?” Reiner finally spoke, grinning lewdly back at Armin and interrupting the peaceful silence they had been walking in. Again, Armin’s face turned scarlet as he shook his head frantically, words failing in a way they had rarely done before he entered the palace. But people here were different. They were open and seemed to have little in regards to a filter. “Kid, I’m going to tell you a secret that’s blatantly obvious to everyone but you. One: Jean wouldn’t have ‘punished’ you by making you work here if he didn’t. Two: He wants to fuck your brains out.” Reiner said bluntly, though his grin never once faded. “Really, you should consider yourself lucky. He may have you quit this garden business and make you a consort instead. Then you won’t even really have to work. Jean’s a good looking guy and I’m sure he’d treat you well enough in bed. And he’s the prince. Princes always get what they want in the end. Better that you desire it as well, but judging on your expression earlier, you certainly do.”

Armin couldn’t muster up a reply, staring with wide eyes at Reiner’s back as they walked. It wasn’t until they came to a stop at the garden that he finally responded. “N-no. I j-just want to w-work my time off h-here then go back to my friends. They’re p-proba-ably worried.” He stammered, slipping past Reiner to enter the mass of dead foliage that must have once been the queen’s garden. Twisting his hands together, his mind immediately started running, trying to picture it with all of the dead fall cleared away and exactly how he could organize the decorative plants with any fruits or vegetables. It wasn’t a huge area, but it was more than big enough to have a bit of everything if he utilized the space properly.

Immediately, Armin had put Reiner to work clearing out the heavier plants and old trees that had to go and the massive blonde was more than happy to help his smaller companion. Every few hours Bertholdt would pop out with a tray of water and small snacks: a bit of fruit here or a few pastries there. Armin was less oblivious than they seemed to think and caught the way Reiner would pull the taller man into chaste kisses or squeeze at his side as he walked by. “So how long have you two been together?” He asked during one of their short breaks, wiping the sweat away from his brow as he gulped down the cold water that was brought to them.

Reiner blinked once, then again, made a quiet “huh” noise and finally, grinned at Armin, resting his chin on his hand. “We’ve known each other since we were still sucking at our mothers. Together…well, somewhere along the lines it just happened. Sleeping together took on a new meaning and instead of nodding to say hello, we kissed instead. Some people just fit together, you know. And the royal family doesn’t mind it as long as we put our work before our relationship.” “And do you?” Armin questioned, furrowing his eyebrows slightly. That seemed like a hard bargain to make, to put a job in front of a significant other. “Nah.” Reiner said with a laugh that bellowed throughout the mostly-clear garden. “But we haven’t been put in a situation where that mattered yet and we’ve been working for them for almost ten years now. It stopped mattering a long time ago for us.”

The small chat continued for a while longer until Armin waved Reiner off. Any work that was left he could, and did, do by himself. The sun had long since set by the time he was finished and he took a step back to admire the garden, a picture of what he hoped it would be blooming in his head as his gaze followed the contours of the land. Pushing his sweaty bangs from his forehead, Armin fiddled with his fingers as he walked down the halls, looking for someone who didn’t seem to be in a hurry in hopes that they would know where Marco was. He still had his list to give him. Annie happened to be who he ran into and immediately, her nose wrinkled up at the sight of him.

“You look disgusting.” She said, cutting off whatever Armin was about to ask her. “I, um…garden.” He offered weakly in response, making a small gesture with his hands. “I just, uh, need to know if you know where Marco is. I checked his room but he didn’t answer and he told me to give him a list of what I needed by tonight.” Annie’s cold eyes continued to scrutinize him as he spoke until she shook her head. “He’s with the prince, but you’re not going to them looking like that. Come.” Her tone gave no room for argument or complaint and, like the obedient person he was, Armin followed after her until they were standing in the same bathing room Marco had taken him to the day before.

“Strip.” This time, Armin did complain and had to insist several times that he was capable of bathing himself before the blonde woman finally gave in and handed more bottles than he was sure he needed. Annie watched his confused expression for a moment before sighing and taking them back, leaving Armin with only shampoo, hair softener and soap. The rest, she practically growled, she would take care of after. Still embarrassed by how he was treated like some child who didn’t know the simplest things, Armin was quick to bathe until he was knocking nervously at the door, calling to Annie to tell her he was done.

He sat still, covering himself as she rubbed some sort of thick lotion into his skin, but the smell was divine. She said it was similar to perfume, but would soften his skin as well, though Armin was unsure as to why a gardener’s skin would need to be soft in the first place until Reiner’s comments from earlier came back to him. Another bottle was used specifically on his bruises and cuts, and a third on what scars he had. Armin tried to memorize what each one looked like and what Annie told him their purpose was so he’d no longer need anyone’s assistance any time he wanted to clean himself to the palace’s standards. Finally he was draped in a silky cream robe and being ushered out of the room just as a group of women servants were entering for their allotted time, giggling at the blush on his face and commenting about how precious he looked.

“West wing, second door to your left, knock twice before you enter.” The blunt instructions were given and Annie straightened the robe on his shoulders and like that, she was gone back into the bathing room. Armin carefully padded down the halls, his bare feet making his steps quieter than they usually were and in several sort minutes he found himself standing outside of the prince’s bed chambers. Oh if only his grandfather could see him then, working in the palace and entering the prince’s room no less. Hesitantly, he rolled his knuckles twice over the smooth wood of the door and waited until a quiet “enter” beckoned him in.

And as soon as he had opened the door and taken a step in, Armin whirled around and was half way out of the door before Jean’s voice stopped him. For as soon as he had opened the door, he was privy to the image of Marco’s head between the prince’s legs and the erotic slurping noises that filled the chamber. Again, he was sure his face was redder than should have been humanly possible as he stood rigid in the doorway with his back to the two men. “Turn around, Armin. You needed something, right?” Slowly, Armin twisted his figure until he was facing the inside of the room again, but his head remained ducked as he covered his face with his hair and glued his eyes to the floor. “I-I j-j-just had a l-list to give to M-Marco.” He squeaked, twisting his hands in the hem of the short robe.

Twin chuckles reached his ears and only then did Armin dare to glance up from under his lashes. Marco had straightened up at some point and wiped his mouth; though his lips were still red and swollen from his task. Meanwhile, Jean didn’t even bother covering himself, letting his cock stand out proudly for the tiny blonde to see. And both of them were staring at him with a strange mix of lust and amusement that had him fidgeting restlessly where he stood and instantly ducking his head down again. He missed the look they exchanged before Jean spoke. “Fantastic. Come in and close the door.”

With wide eyes, Armin glanced up again and opened his mouth to say _something_ before nodding and snapping it shut along with the door. He didn’t make a move to step farther into the room, however, and remained with his back pressed up against the wood as he stared at the two men who wore expressions of beasts who had finally cornered their prey. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing the twins was so much fun and I intentionally tried to avoid putting which twin was saying what. Anyway. Are Jean and Marco gonna bone Armin? Is Armin gonna run away like a lil' bitch? Is anything going to happen? Who knows. I sure don't because I haven't written it yet but I think this is very quickly becoming my precious bb and I really like it? Is that bad? Probably. Meh.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is literally just JeanMarMin smut and I refuse to apologize for it because I love them and I'm very attached to this fic now and I always will be even if I'm the only one. Any typos are probably because I'm sick and I apologize for that. As always, tumblr is the best place to contact me and I love it, PLEASEEEEEE give me feedback if you can spare a few minutes, even just clicking kudos seriously helps a lot, please enjoy and I hope you have a beautiful day~ ^^

Marco glanced over at Jean, a mischievous grin curling the corners of his lips up and then he was standing and took three long strides to reach Armin. His shirt had been lost some time ago, his chest and neck were littered with small hickeys and bruises and the button of his pants were popped open, hanging low on his hips. “Have you ever kissed another man, Armin?” Biting his lower lip, the blonde took a small step back, only to hit the wood of the door as he stared up at the handsome man. Considering the question, he thought back to the chaste kisses Eren would give him when they were kids. Of course, he assumed Marco was talking about something different, but the small boy nodded all the same, still twisting the material of his robe between his fingers.

Jean had been watching them with interest and a small smile bloomed across his face at the answer. “Show me.” The command caused Armin to flush a darker red than he had been and curl into himself, ducking his shoulders down while he scuffed his feet against the floor. But then Marco was there, sliding one hand around the other boy’s slight frame until it was gripping his waist and the other was on his chin, forcing the blonde to look up at him. “Do you want to kiss me, Armin?” He purred, brushing his nose against Armin’s, their lips ghosting against each other’s without quite touching. Armin’s mouth was dry and his hands were clammy, but the prince had given him a command and it would be treason to deny him. Besides, Marco was by far one of the most attractive men he had ever seen and it was impossible to deny how curious he was as to how it would feel to kiss him.

So, despite his hesitance, Armin leaned forward just slightly to press his lips against Marco’s. Almost as soon as he had moved, he was pulling away and staring at the ground again, missing again the confused, then thrilled looks Marco and Jean exchanged. Marco’s hand was forcing his head up again and pulling him tightly against his torso. “Is that all the kissing you’ve ever done?” Armin nodded. Then, the freckled man was pulling him along and pushing him back until he fell down in Jean’s lap. His frame went rigid when Jean’s still very apparent erection pressed into his lower back and he stared at Marco with wide eyes as the older man dropped onto the cushions in front of him. The prince wrapped his arms loosely around Armin, resting his hands against his stomach and brushed his lips against the side of the blonde’s neck.

“Do you want to know what it’s like to kiss someone properly?” Marco asked, running his thumb along Armin’s bottom lip with a smile. It wasn’t like the blonde had never seen people kiss intimately before from afar, the streets were littered with brothels and drunkards who stumbled around trying to shove their tongues into anything that breathed. But it had never seemed appealing and that must have shown on his face when he wrinkled up his nose slightly. Marco laughed quietly, a gentle, rumbling sound that had Armin’s toes curling when Jean simultaneously scraped his teeth against a sensitive patch of skin. “No? We’ll show you first then. It feels nice, you’ll enjoy it.” Then, the prince was leaning around Armin to lock lips with his best friend and advisor.

The kiss was hot and open mouthed so Armin could see the way their tongues fought for dominance, one occasionally pulling away to bite at the other’s lip or pull at their hair. Before long Armin was squirming slightly between them, the show appealing more than what he had seen on the streets ever did and finally they were separating, both panting softly as they gazed at the other. Pressing one quick kiss to Jean’s lips, Marco turned back to Armin and tucked the blonde hair behind his ears before nuzzling at his nose again and leaving small pecks on Armin’s bottom lip until he had pulled the younger boy into another close-mouthed kiss. One of Marco’s hands went to Armin’s jaw and he applied a gentle pressure to the sides, coaxing the blonde to open his mouth until he could slide his tongue between Armin’s lips. The blonde wrinkled his forehead as soon as Marco’s tongue brushed against his. It was weird and slippery but _oh._ He trembled slightly when the appendage in his mouth hit a sensitive spot he didn’t even know existed and Armin’s jaw relaxed, giving Marco room to explore.

Jean was watching intently, rubbing his thumbs in small circles against the blonde’s hips over the obnoxious robe that the prince just wanted to pull off already. But the last thing he wanted was to frighten Armin into rejecting them. Though he had previously commanded him to stay in the room, he and Marco intentionally left room for the boy to say no. If he were to say the word, they would back off immediately, neither having any desire to actually force him into anything. Only to…break him of his shyness were the “orders” given. Tightening his hands on Armin’s hips momentarily, Jean rolled his hips slowly against the blonde’s back as a reminder of his presence and chuckled lowly at the way he let out a quiet squeak into Marco’s mouth.

Armin was significantly more interested in the kiss by then, having dared to move his tongue against Marco’s, and was currently losing terribly in the battle of trying to get his tongue in the freckled boy’s mouth. He knew Marco was toying with him, letting him slip past the other boy’s lips only to press back against him and completely plunder his mouth again. When air became an issue, Marco pulled away and have a harsh bite to his bottom lip just as Jean moved his hand up to rub over one of Armin’s nipples and the blonde gasped loudly, jerking his head around to look at Jean with a mixture of surprise and confusion.

The prince only smirked, rubbing harder at the sensitive flesh as he spoke. “If you want us to, we’ll stop. Just say no, Armin, and you can walk out of that door right now.” His voice was deep and husky and had shivers running down the blonde’s spine. They were giving him a choice. He blinked several times, the furrowed his eyebrows. “But why me?” The question came out in a shaky voice as he wiggled in between the two men. “Because we think you’re beautiful.” It was Marco who answered, moving his hand to toy with the nipple Jean had left unattended, twisting and pinching it in a way that contrasted to the prince’s gentle rubs. In seconds Armin was a moaning mess and no complaint came from him. “You’re so sensitive.” Marco breathed in awe against his ear. Instead of replying, Armin leaned back farther and wiggled his hips, intentionally rubbing against Jean’s erection that had amazingly failed to diminish the entire time.

Groaning against his neck, Jean raised his head and turned Armin’s to capture his lips in a kiss that was more intense than Marco’s playful style. Where Marco was sunny and teasing, Jean was deep and intense, not bothering to give Armin any space to press back. Then, Marco’s lips were on his neck, trailing hot kisses down to where his fingers had been and he slowly dragged his tongue across Armin’s nipple. The blonde moaned quietly into Jean’s mouth, completely overwhelmed from all the new attention on him.

Next thing Armin knew, he was on his back and gasping for air, looking up at the two lust-hungry men above him. His hands twisted in the robe that was splayed open across his chest and had ridden high up on his thighs, pulling it down with a dark blush. “Why are you doing that? We’re just going to take it off of you.” Jean husked, pulling at the tie that was keeping the robe together until the fabric came undone around his slight frame. “You’re okay with this, right Armin? Sure seems like it.” Marco purred out, leaning over the blonde as he slowly trailed a finger up the underside of his erect cock. Armin whimpered quietly in response, his face and shoulders red with a blush, but nodded all the same much to the two men’s delight. Then Marco was sucking on his bottom lip and running a loose fist over his erection while Jean moved away from them and Armin was panting and rolling his hips into Marco’s hand, trying to get more friction than the barely-there touches provided.

When Jean returned, Armin had resorted to whining under Marco, who refused to comply with his wishes. “You shouldn’t tease.” The prince breathed against the back of his advisor’s shoulder blades, nipping at the skin there. “I’ve never heard you complain about my methods before.” Marco replied, leaning up and twisting around to claim Jean’s lips for his own in a deep kiss. Watching the two of them interact was fascinating to Armin. Jean, who was more apparently dominant, had to struggle against Marco’s teasing nips and kisses and, unlike with him, neither was apparently controlling the exchange. When they broke apart, the prince was left panting and Marco grinned, tugging quickly on the back of his friends hair before he was coaxing Armin onto his hands and knees, with Marco in front of him and Jean at his back.

“If anything becomes too much for you just let us know and we’ll stop immediately, okay?” The freckled man reassured him, brushing his hair out of his face. “Are you okay with touching me?” At that, Armin bit his lip, zoning in on the significant bulge in Marco’s pants. Why was he the only one still wearing pants? “I don’t know how. Will you show me?” He asked softly, resting his forehead against his thigh before glancing up at Marco from under his lashes. Smiling warmly down at the blonde, Marco nodded and shifted back so he could quickly shuck off the restricting pants. He glanced up at Jean and rearranged Armin slightly so the blonde had his chest resting on freckled legs and his face was up close and personal with Marco’s erection.

“Just feel it for now, Jean’s going to prepare you and it will most likely be uncomfortable, so try not to squeeze too tightly.” Marco instructed, running a hand through Armin’s hair where he held him. His other hand took one of the blonde’s and pressed it against the heated length of his cock before letting go and leaning back against the pile of pillows. Meanwhile, Jean made sure he coated his fingers liberally with the small bottle of oil he had collected and smoothed his clean hand down to Armin’s lower back. While he rubbed the skin there soothingly, he moved his index finger to put a light pressure on Armin’s entrance, causing the blonde to stop running his fingers over Marco’s head momentarily.

Slowly and carefully, the prince pushed his finger fully into the smaller body, watching him tense and shift his weight. Armin was tighter than anything Jean had ever felt and he had to bite back a groan, forcing himself to keep his finger still when the blonde whimpered. “I don’t think I like it.” Armin gasped, squirming uncomfortably between them. But Marco was hushing him, running his nails gently over the blonde’s scalp in a soothing manner. “Just relax, it’ll get better. Jean, another.” Despite being preoccupied with his discomfort and Marco’s erection that was now resting against his cheek, Armin noted how quickly the prince moved to obey his friend. They had an interesting dynamic. Armin gritted his teeth and let out a hiss between then when Jean pulled his finger out only to push in with another, stretching out the blonde almost painfully. He dug his fingers into Marco’s thighs and squirmed again when Jean spread his fingers apart inside of him for some reason. Why did people think this was enjoyable?

Armin opened his mouth to complain again, to ask the prince to stop, but he froze before he could get the words out and his hips jerked forward, then back against the fingers as a loud moan was torn from his throat. “There you go. I told you, feels good, doesn’t it?” Marco cooed, tilting Armin’s face up so he could watch the change in his expression when Jean slid his fingers against a hyper-sensitive spot inside him that had the small blonde seeing stars. Noticing that the kind freckled man had done nothing but comfort him the entire time, and feeling a bit daring, Armin leaned forward and mouthed at the side of Marco’s erection, gaining a sharp intake of breathe in response.

Meanwhile, Jean was carefully preparing the blonde for his cock and slipped a third finger into him, the movement easier now that he had located the boy’s prostate. His eyes were fixated on the way Armin laid wet, open-mouthed kisses on his best friend’s length and how Marco’s eyes gained that smoldering heat they got when he felt particularly aroused. Armin was actively rolling his hips back against Jean’s fingers at this point, his moans muffled against the side of Marco’s erection. “I think he’s getting impatient, Jean. And I want to be in his mouth, so if you don’t fuck him now I will.” Marco said, his voice several octaves deeper than it typically was as he tugged the blonde away from him with his hair momentarily and looked expectantly at the prince.

Jean swallowed and nodded; grabbing the bottle he had set to the side to coat his cock with the oil. Smoothing his hands across Armin’s back, he took hold of his hips. “This may hurt at first, just relax and give yourself time.” Then, he was pushing into the blonde who let out a drawn out moan until Jean was pressed flush against his ass, seated fully inside and surrounded by impossibly tight heat. Armin’s entire body had gone rigid until Marco was tugging at his hair and looking down at him, the message in his expectant eyes rather obvious as he had repeated it enough times before. _Relax._ Several long minutes passed with all three men still in the room, harsh breathing the only noise to be heard until _finally_ Armin wiggled his hips slightly. “I t-think it’s okay now.” He breathed, resting his forehead against Marco’s thigh again.

But Marco had other plans and as soon as Jean withdrew and slid back home as slowly as possible, he bucked his hips towards Armin’s face. “Don’t forget about me just because pretty boy back there’s fucking you at a snail’s pace. Open your mouth.” Jean had stilled within the blonde again and Armin obeyed with little hesitation, letting his mouth fall open. “Keep your teeth away and suck. _Yes._ Like that. Move your head a little but don’t gag. _Gods, perfect.”_ He groaned, tipping his head back slightly as the blonde took him surprisingly well, laving his tongue over Marco’s cock while he slowly moved his head up and down, one hand wrapped firmly around the base. One of Marco’s hands delved into Armin’s hair, helping to guide his pace and push him down just a _little_ farther each time while he glanced over at Jean, who looked utterly miserable just sitting still.

“Jean I swear to the gods – _just_ like that, Armin – if you don’t take him now I’m going to fuck your ass so hard you won’t be able to walk for a week.” Marco hissed, his cock bumping the back of Armin’s throat. The blonde gagged, quickly pulling back to breathe and give his jaw a quick break. Looking back at Jean he rolled his hips slightly and gasped, clenching a pillow in his free hand. “Please your highness, I can’t…by myself.” He rasped before moving to take Marco into his mouth again.  

As if the official title Armin addressed him with caused him to lose all self control, Jean snapped his hips forward and was soon fucking Armin just short of a brutal pace, but the blonde was choking out moans and wails as he brushed over his prostate with every thrust. Marco was looking down at both of them, panting and holding Armin’s head still while he rolled his hips towards his mouth, effectively face fucking him at a languid pace that opposed Jean’s. Armin, however, wasn’t still in the middle of them. Having given up on modesty in the heat of the moment, he had one hand wrapped around his own cock and the other around a freckled hip. Breathing was proving to be difficult, but he could barely tell between the incessant slide of the two men’s erections in and out of his body. He was getting too close too soon, or so he thought until Jean finally spoke from behind him.

“Fuck, Armin, I’m so fucking close.” He rasped, his voice hoarse and strained as he pounded into the small blonde from behind. “Get him off first.” Marco replied, hissing out the words between gritted teeth. His thrusts were beginning to falter; the previously steady rolling of hips shifting into sporadic jerks and tugs on Armin’s hair. Jean smacked Armin’s hand away from his cock, his own hand taking its place. Unsurprisingly, the prince’s hand was softer and larger than his own and Jean jerked him off like his life depended on it, quick and rough to match the pace of his hips. Then, Armin was pulling away from Marco to scream into the freckled man’s thigh, his hips jerking twice as he came onto the pillows beneath them. The intense clenching of his muscles had Jean following not three quick thrusts harder and he sank his teeth into the back of Armin’s neck as he came, grinding his hips against the blonde’s ass.

Marco was left watching the two of them pant as they came down from their highs, his hand lazily stroking his length. Armin, though he was still panting and shivers wracked his body, glanced up at him and smiled almost shyly before he was leaning forward again to take the erection back into his mouth and sucked steadily on the head, his doe eyes looking up at Marco the entire time. He watched carefully the way his chest began to heave with quickened breath until finally he tilted his head back and with one solid groan was spilling into the blonde’s mouth. Armin had been told by women that swallowing a man’s semen was hard to do and disgusting, but he quickly realized that he didn’t mind the salty taste and his tongue poked out at the corners of his lips before he gave one final lick to Marco’s head.

Armin rested against a large pillow even as Jean pulled out of him and he wiggled uncomfortably, the feeling of come cooling on the backs of his thighs was far from present. When he glanced up again Marco and Jean were kissing slowly, Marco brushing his hair back as he had been doing to Armin only moments earlier and then they were doing it again, communicating without speaking. While it was fascinating how well the two men knew each other, and Armin couldn’t help but wonder if he and Eren were the same, it made him feel like he was invading something private. So, as carefully as he could, the blonde shimmied to the end of the pillow bed and made a move to stand, only to yelp loudly and collapse on the floor when a sharp pain resonated up his spine at the contact.

He found himself looking up with a humiliated expression when Jean and Marco quickly moved over to him, Marco scooping him up in his arms as if he weighed nothing and setting him carefully back down on the cushions. Tears had welled up in his eyes and he refused to look up until Marco was forcing him to in that way of his, with a firm grip of his chin. Brown eyes remained locked with blue until Marco was smiling and chuckling under his breath. Then, he was pressing small kisses to Armin’s forehead, his cheeks, his nose, everywhere but his sex swollen lips. “Silly boy. You didn’t think we were just going to kick you out, did you?” The warmth was back in his voice and Marco rubbed at Armin’s cheek with a thumb before looking over at Jean again. The prince was silent for a few moments, his eyes fixed on Armin with an unreadable expression until he looked back to his advisor and they both nodded.

Armin was up in Marco’s arms again and he chuckled again, rubbing his nose lightly against the blonde’s. “We’re going to take a bath and you can sleep here for the night.” He said, guiding Armin into another room that looked less like a bathroom and more like a pool again, though it was smaller than the one he was in only hours ago. Marco and Jean were fascinating. Armin watched them joke around in the pool, the freckled man snapping his towel at the prince any opportunity he could and one was constantly trying to splash or dunk the other. Before he knew it, Armin was giggling beside them as he observed safely from his little corner. Marco ensured he was bathed thoroughly again, insisting on washing at least his hair and the more sensitive parts of his body. He would catch Jean looking at him occasionally, but the prince never addressed him until, before Marco could, he was carrying a very confused and flustered Armin back into his room. Nestling into one another, the three finally found comfort with Armin’s small frame tucked between the two of theirs, his face in Jean’s chest and Marco pressed up against his back and eventually, they quieted down enough to pass out one by one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be more plotty...I just needed my smutty times. But I forgot how damn hard it is to write threesomes. So that's unfortunate because I love them too much to not.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised a chapter and I delivered one. Shout out to the anon who asked about it and kicked my ass into gear to finish it. I really like writing this story and it's a little domestic seeming right now, but I have to lay down relationships and small details for the plot to start kicking in, so I hope no one minds. Next chapter will introduce Armin and Mikasa. Kudos, comments, likes, asks, etc are always SOSOSOSOSOSO welcome and extremely appreciated, I can't stress this enough. As always, please enjoy and have a beautiful day~ ^^

Armin awoke groggy, disorientated and warm from the two bodies pressing up in front and behind him. Sleep drunk and overwhelmed from the night before, he didn’t bother standing or rushing out of the room as he might have if he was completely aware of what had transpired. Instead, he groaned and nuzzled into the blankets, flinching when a sharp pain shot up his spine. His nose wrinkled and he groaned again, curling up his legs and resting his forehead on the pillow in front of him. Except it wasn’t a pillow at all. When a quiet chuckle sounded, Armin went rigid, recollection of the previous night hitting him like a punch to the stomach. Still stunned, he looked up the golden skin before him to the amused face of none other than the prince he had slept with all night.

“Are you sore?” His voice was rich and deep and he brushed back Armin’s hair when addressing him for the first time. Armin was off the bed in an instant, wiggling out of the tangle of sheets. But as soon as his feet hit the ground and he tried to support his weight to run… _somewhere,_ the pain was back and he cried out again before collapsing onto the tiles. Jean remained unmoved, looking stunned. For his credit, he hadn’t expected such a severe reaction and wasn’t entirely sure what the hell the blonde kid was thinking. Next to him still, Marco muttered something unintelligible, rubbing at his eyes with his hands. After blinking several times, he glanced at Jean, then down at Armin, and finally his glance turned into a glare.

“Oh by the gods, Armin, I know Jean has terrible bed head, but he’s not that scary. Come here, he’s not going to bite you I promise.” Marco chided, standing from his spot to scoop Armin up and dump him back down on the bed. “Now stay here and don’t try to stand again until I get back. Jean, play nice with him.” The freckled man directed the commands to the two on the bed, Armin who had curled into himself upon realizing they were all still naked and Jean who was frantically trying to insist that his hair was fine while fixing it at the same time. Marco gave them a hard look, then broke out into a smile and chuckled, shaking his head before exiting the room.

Armin didn’t move, frozen rigid on the bed with his face buried deeply into the covers. Finally, he could feel Jean shifting next to him, but still the blonde only curled farther into himself until there was a harsh pull of his hair. He must have looked terrified when he met the prince’s eyes, that was the only explanation to the sudden shock on Jean’s face. “Hey, sorry, I just wanted you to look up.” He said, releasing Armin’s hair and holding up his hands in surrender. Armin, still trying to grasp the fact he just fornicated with the crown prince and his advisor, only gaped, his mouth opening and closing several times while he tried to find his words. “You’re a prince.” Well that was stupid, Armin thought, clamping his mouth shut as soon as the sentence escaped. Jean furrowed his eyebrows, regarding the blonde with confusion until he suddenly burst out laughing, clutching his ribs in his hands.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Jean quickly rushed, grabbing Armin’s hand when he tried to scramble off the bed again. Armin was mortified and couldn’t bring himself to look up at the prince. “Hey, hey, I said sorry. I’m not really used to my workers being shy around me especially after…sorry, you’re really red.” Something told Armin that the prince wasn’t accustomed to dealing with people in general, let alone someone who was obviously embarrassed by simply being in his presence. With wide eyes, Armin looked down at the large hand grasping his, then back up to the prince, then down to their hands again. Steeling his gaze, Jean tightened his grip on the blonde and with a tug, had Armin sprawled out half in his lap.

“Tell me about where you’re from.” Jean said, interrupting Armin’s protests. The younger blonde didn’t make a move to speak until the prince had forced his back to Jean’s chest and was murmuring quietly in his ear for him to calm down. “I…not Trost. I grew up in Shiganshina, but when the city went under siege a few years ago two of my friends and I escaped. We’ve been travelling around ever since.” His words were clipped and short, his nerves still obvious from his posture. “Are your friends still here?” Jean was rubbing small circles against Armin’s hips with his thumbs, having thrown a blanket over his lap to give him some sense of modesty. Armin could tell the prince was trying to calm him down, to get him to relax, but he didn’t know _why._ “Yes. At least, I think they are. They’re probably tearing apart the streets trying to figure out where I went.”

There was an undeniable sadness in Armin’s voice that had Jean frowning deeply. Nuzzling his nose against the blonde’s neck, he closed his eyes and hummed before speaking carefully. “If you’d like, I’m sure some day this week Marco would be more than happy to take you into town to look for them. I can’t excuse you from service or the lord will get angry and then we’ll have a problem on our hands, but you can at least tell them that you’re safe and well cared for.” Armin’s eyes had gone wide with shock and delight, and he whirled around to face Jean in his lap, his small hands grabbing at the prince’s biceps. “Really?! You’ll really let me go to see them?” Jean was certain he said the right thing if the wide smile on the blonde’s face was anything to go off of. It was incredible how much it changed his face. Usually red faced with downcast eyes, Armin was beaming unabashedly, showing off surprisingly white teeth and the mix of blues in his eyes.

“You’re not a prisoner here, Armin. You’re a worker until your, ah, punishment has been fully served.” “Speaking of served, so is breakfast.” The cheerful voice of Marco came from the doorway, following Jean’s statement. He was carrying a wide tray in his arms, several glasses and plates balanced carefully on it, but his movements were effortless when he placed it next to Jean and Armin. Once again, the blonde couldn’t help but admire the advisor who seemed to be excellent at just about everything. Jean shifted from under Armin, making room for Marco, who was already picking from the plates, to drop down next to them. For several long minutes, Armin watched the two eat with fascination, captivated again by how they interacted with each other.

It wasn’t hard to see that Jean and Marco were close, though Armin would never have guessed they were _quite_ as close as he found out. Both aimed jabs at the other’s stomach when they would go for the same piece of fruit or cheese. Occasionally, one would place small pecks on the other’s shoulders or cheeks and they both seemed to have an affinity for ruffling other people’s hair, specifically each others.

Then, there was a piece of fruit Armin had never seen before right in his face and he recoiled instinctively. Marco had leaned around the prince to tap it against the blonde’s lips, wearing his typically warm smile as he did so. “You’ve got a lot of work to do today, Armin. It’s not like I brought this all here for you to watch us eat.” He said with a small, playful roll of his eyes. Armin could feel his cheeks turn pink and he tried to accept the piece of fruit, only for it to be pulled away from him. Laughing next to him, Jean grinned. “Marco likes to feed people, it makes him feel like the mother bird he’s always dreamed of being.” He earned another harsh jab to the ribs for that, but Marco didn’t accept nor deny the statement, only tapped the piece of fruit against Armin’s lips again.

While it was embarrassing to have to eat from someone else, Marco seemed thrilled at Armin allowing him to do so and slowly, Armin felt himself growing more comfortable with Marco’s mix of teasing kindness and Jean’s semi-awkward, but gentle behavior. “Alright, cutie, we’ve spent long enough lazing around. You have a garden to work on and _you_ have paperwork to do.” Marco chimed, addressing Armin and Jean respectively. The blonde smiled and nodded, accepting the clothing that was handed to him while Jean groaned and flopped back against the bed, burying his face in the covers. By the time Armin was dressed, Marco was still fighting with Jean to try to pull him from the bed. “For the gods’ sake, Armin come over here and help me.”

Hesitantly, Armin moved back over to the bed and cast his wary eyes over Jean’s figure. “Grab his other arm and pull like your life depends on it. The floor’s cold, Jean, it would have been easier if you just got up.” And with that declaration from Marco, he and Armin both grabbed one of his arms and pulled until the prince was sprawled out over the floor. Armin didn’t allow himself to hesitate, or to stop and remember that this was the _crown prince_ he was yanking out of bed like a toddler. Marco and Jean were pleasant to be around when he could put his insecurities to the side. “You’d better be in the office by the time I get there.” Marco warned, linking his arm with Armin’s and tugging him out of the room.

They talked casually while they walked as Armin admittedly was more comfortable with the freckled man than he was with the prince. He found himself giggling quietly when he and Marco stopped outside of the kitchen doors, Marco insisting on fussing over his hair before he got to work, where it would only be messy again. Huffing, the advisor crossed his arms, giving up on fixing one stubborn strand. “Reiner will again help you with all the heavy lifting. Everything that was on your list, I pulled it from your pant pockets when you were asleep last night, we have set out. You should only need to say where you want things placed. I should be in the office with Jean all day if you need anything, or Annie should be somewhere in the kitchens or wandering the halls. Don’t hesitate to ask, we’d rather you ask than make a mistake.”

Armin nodded obediently and waved goodbye to Marco when he ran off to ensure the prince was starting on his duties. Stepping into the kitchen, the blonde was once again greeted with the twins, who seemed preoccupied with a nervous looking Bertholdt. “So are you _sure_ you’re not part giraffe?” “Yeah you’re so tall. We’ve looked at the data and decided that you have to be.” Apparently used to being asked this, the tall man simply shook his head and smiled down at the two before catching Armin in the doorway. “Are you looking for Reiner?” Armin had to marvel at how soft his voice was. Bertholdt was a gentle giant for sure. Nodding, Armin waved at the twins who had turned their wide eyes to him when Bertholdt slipped away, presumably to find Reiner.

“Read to us again!” “Yeah, please Auntie Armin, we wanna hear another story!” Part of him felt that he should once again correct the twins as to his gender, but he shook it off. Kids would be kids. “I have to work, so we’ll only have time for a short one.” He replied, sitting down at one of the small tables. They were on him in an instant, one on his right leg and the other on his left and a book was being shoved in his face. “Read the one about the girl and the frog.” They said simultaneously, squirming impatiently while they waited. Admittedly, Armin had missed reading, so any opportunity to take a book in his hands was one he probably wouldn’t resist. Luckily, the story was short and he was reading the last page when Bertholdt reappeared, his hair mussed up and looking dazed with a proud looking Reiner in tow.

“Another!” “Yeah, another!” Ruffling Lily’s hair, Armin shook his head and gestured for them to get off his lap. “I have to go work now, but maybe if I have time tomorrow I can read to you again.” He said, smoothing out the folds in his clothing and following Reiner when the larger man jerked his head towards the door.

“I have to admit, I’m surprised. The twins normally torment new workers instead of latching onto them. Bertl’s been here for years and they haven’t stopped picking on him.” Reiner spoke, kicked back against a wall while he watched Armin work diligently in the dirt. Armin glanced up, brushing his fringe back so he could wipe the sweat from his forehead before standing and moving over to the small table that held their glasses of water. He took a long drink and paused a moment to catch his breath, then replied. “Maybe they just like that I read to them. Most kids I’ve met do, I think it’s why they all like me so much. Or because they think I’m a girl. But what about you? Did your muscles intimidate them so much that they didn’t dare tease you?” He asked, moving back to kneel in the dirt again and work on planting seeds. “Nah, they just gave up when I laughed along with them. Hey, do you think you’ll need me anymore now that we have those trees planted?”

Raising an eyebrow, Armin cast his eyes over the garden, examining his work. It still looked like a bit of a mess, or a lot of a mess, but it was a start. The small trees were planted exactly where he wanted them and he had separated the garden into two areas, one for flowers and the view and the other for actual produce. But there was nothing left that Armin _couldn’t_ lift himself and while it would be better to have someone give their opinion on the layout, the sun was already setting and Reiner wasn’t much help in that area in the first place. So he nodded and waved the blonde off. “Hey, thanks. I wanted to take Bertl out to the town for a while now but Marco’s been working me to the bone.” He said with a cheer, bolting off inside. Armin watched him go with a quiet laugh.

It had gotten dark by the time he heard footsteps approaching. Annie had come to him shortly after Reiner left to scold him for letting the man off of work early, though Armin could tell there was no true reprimand in her words, and informed him that he could stop whenever he wanted to. And he had planned to stop then, but there was always that _one_ more thing that needed to get done and before he knew it, it was pitch black outside and he was still hard at work.

“Armin, you know you’re not getting paid for this, you don’t have to work overtime here.” Marco’s voice sounded from behind him, littered with amusement. Armin craned his head back to smile at him and shrug. “I kind of lost track of time. Sorry.” “Did you at least eat something for dinner? You’re far too skinny for my preference.” Pursing his lips, Armin looked back down at his hands working away in the dirt and heard Marco tisk behind him. Then, he was over Marco’s shoulder, yelping loudly. “You’re filthy and smell like dirt _and_ forgot to eat properly.” The advisor scolded him as he carried Armin down the halls. He paused when they ran into Annie to ask her to bring whatever food was leftover to the washroom and continued on his way until Armin was being dropped into the pool of water.

“You know I can wash myself, right?” Armin asked, his cheeks aflame when Marco worked to tug his now sopping wet clothing off of him. “I’m sure you could, but you’re not going to, now hush and let me mother you, it’s a good way to relax.” He chided, dunking the blonde under the water again, only to laugh when Armin spluttered to the surface. At some point, Annie had slipped in and dropped off a plate of food, which Marco had Armin eating bits and pieces of. “Honestly, I can’t believe you forgot to eat.” Marco scolded him again from where they were sat similar to how Armin and Jean were in the morning, with Armin’s back to Marco’s chest and the freckled man working some kind of product into his hair.

Armin yawned and shrugged, having lost what remained of his energy half way through Marco’s long bathing process. “I don’t think it’s that surprising.” He mumbled, resting his cheek against the advisor’s collar bone. “I lived on the streets for most of my life and even before that, it’s not like food was very plentiful before the siege. You take what you can get, which is nothing most days. Eren and Mikasa always made sure I got most of our food, though. It didn’t make sense because they were always running around and fighting and I just…didn’t.” He sighed at the memories, lulling his head back with his eyes closed so he couldn’t see the sympathetic frown that flitted across Marco’s face. “Well you’re here now and there’s plenty to go around, so eat your fill. Bertholdt doesn’t like it when food is wasted, it makes him feel like it’s subpar or that there’s something wrong with it. He’s a very sensitive guy, you know?”

Mumbling compliance, Armin almost whined when Marco made to pull him from the warm water. “Honestly, I’m spoiling you and now you’re going to be as bad as Jean is. Up, up, up.” Kneeling on the floor, Armin let Marco dry him off, and then discreetly watched as he did the same to himself. “Um…Jean said you would take me into town to see if I could find my friends. Will you?” Marco cast a glance over at the blonde, then beamed and nodded. “Of course. I assumed they were the Eren and Mikasa you were talking about. This weekend would probably be the best though, so you’ll have to be patient.” But Armin was already throwing out his thanks before Marco had stopped talking and the freckled man blinked in surprise, the expression quickly changing into a pleased one.

They walked back to Armin’s quarters in a comfortable silence, both men preoccupied with their own thoughts until they were saying goodnight. “Oh, Armin?” Marco paused half way down the hall, looking back to the blonde who stuck his head out when he heard his name. “We’re nothing like you thought we would be, are we?” The question was asked with a smile that Armin couldn’t help but return with a nod along with it. When he dropped down onto his bed and pulled the blankets up to his face, Armin couldn’t help but think that stealing that old book was probably the best thing to ever happen to him.  


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh gosh, it's been a while and I'm sorry about that, I've just been crazy, crazy busy. But here's a new chapter, so I hope you enjoy! As always, feedback is so extremely appreciated I can't even begin to emphasize this enough. If you have a few minutes, please leave me kudos or a like or an ask or a comment. I really appreciate them. Please enjoy and have a beautiful day~ ^^

Armin worked as diligently as ever for the rest of the week. Staying out past everyone else became a regular occurrence, as did Marco’s insistence to bathe him and see him to bed every night, no matter how late it got. He didn’t, however, see Jean since the morning when he woke up next to the crown prince. It made the silent voice in the back of his mind continuously nip at him, insist that he did something wrong, that he would be removed from the premise soon because of it. Perhaps he wasn’t formal enough with Jean, or perhaps he wasn’t experienced enough for what the prince wanted. Rather than dwell on the thoughts, Armin tried to focus on anything else. He noted how Reiner and Bertholdt slowly became more open around him and stopped hiding the small, affectionate gestures they gave the other. The twins still insisted on him reading to them every morning they could hunt him down before he had to start working. And he counted down the days until the end of the week, when Marco promised to take him to town.

His countdown finally reached zero and Armin found himself bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet outside of the advisor’s room, his hand raised as he tried to muster up the courage to knock. He had steeled himself to his task and his hand came down on the door just as it opened and someone stepped in his way. Blinking several times, Armin stared at where his hand rested on a tanned chest before glancing up, only to balk away and stammer out apologies when he was met with the prince’s golden eyes. But they weren’t the warm ones he saw in private. Dark circles colored the skin beneath them and his face was set into a scowl while he looked down at the small blonde. Without a word to Armin, Jean scoffed and pushed past him, storming off down the hall, completely disregarding his servant’s attempts to apologize.

“Don’t worry about him. He’s just stressed out because his parents are returning soon with a suitor for him, one of the Maria princesses.” Marco called out from where he was settled on the edge of his bed. When Armin sent his gaze towards the older man, he paused, and then gaped at the state his room was in. Mirrors were broken, furniture was toppled over and the impressive book collection Marco had was strewn across the floor. Marco himself looked tired for the first time Armin had ever seen him and had two fingers of one hand pressed to the bridge of his nose. Twisting his hands together, Armin’s eyes dropped to the floor and he scuffed his shoes against the tile, suddenly entirely more reluctant to ask for his trip than he had been before. “Um, do you want me to clean this up?” He asked, glancing up with meek eyes and a small smile.

“Don’t be ridiculous, I can take care of it later. I promised to take you into town, didn’t I? I always keep my promises. And now we can go get you all dressed up, that’ll cheer me up.” Marco chimed, shaking off his frustration while he beamed at Armin, taking the blonde’s hand and pulling him out of the wrecked room. “But aren’t you the one who picks out all of my clothing in the first place?” Armin asked, letting himself be led down the halls towards what he presumed was the wash room. “Yep, but if we’re going out together, people are going to recognize me and by default, you’ll be associated with the royal family, so you have two options: dress as a concubine or in the public servant garb.” The advisor said, ushering him into a room he had never seen before.

It was like one massive walk in closet and clothing lined each wall. Two he recognized as the common garb Marco has referenced before; it was made up of plain, itchy brown pants and a white tunic. The next was all black and white, with formal looking coats and dresses that he assumed was for serving during formal events. It was the final wall that had Armin’s jaw dropping as he stared, wide-eyed at the garments. They were all brightly colored and seemed to be made of silk or satin and the small blonde didn’t bother resisting the urge to feel the expensive fabric between his fingers.

“This is the room where we keep mass servant outfits, I’m sure you recognize the first two, but those that you’re touching are what concubine’s wear for going out in public. They’re allowed to be a bit more… _dressy.”_ Marco spoke, leaning against the wall while he watched Armin with a small smile. Armin finished touching the cool fabric and turned to face Marco with furrowed eyebrows. “Am I a concubine?” His voice sounded almost scandalized as he asked the question. Marco chuckled, a deep sound that had chills running up Armin’s spine and he almost squirmed where he stood. “Well…I suppose that depends on how you look at it. Technically, you did sleep with Jean and me, so you have done the job of a concubine.” Again, he chuckled when Armin turned an almost impossibly bright shade of red, but held his hand up to stop the blonde before he could say anything. “ _But,_ no, you’re not a concubine. Jean doesn’t have concubines; he thinks that’s inhumane or demoralizing, no matter how willing the concubine may be. If he finds someone he thinks is attractive and they’re interested in him as well, good for all parties involved.”

“Um, can I just dress regularly?” Armin asked, casting one last glance of longing towards the wall of concubine clothing. “Of course. The smallest size should fit you fine, just come out when you’re done changing.” Marco replied, slipping out of the room but storing the looks Armin had given the clothing away in the back of his mind for a rainy day.

The freckled advisor couldn’t help but adore how Armin stared at the marketplace, eyes full of wonder. He had already been almost entirely certain that the blonde had never seen the beauty of Trost from an elevated view and it truly was something to behold. With two armed guards flanking them, people parted before the duo and shop owners tried to get their attention, hooting and hollering about how fantastic their products were. Armin had one hand entwined with Marco’s while the other was occupied with pointing at anything he found particularly interesting, asking what it was or what it did. The underground was close to the end of the market and they had been slowly making their way towards the less impressive part of the city, but Marco tightened his hold on Armin’s hand and tugged him to a stop. Then, he grinned and pointed past a few canopies and watched the blonde gape before turning to look at the advisor for unspoken permission.

“Go on. You can pick one out. My treat for all your hard work.” Those words were all Armin needed to bolt off towards the tent full of books and Marco stopped the guard who tried to trail after him. “Just keep an eye on him from out here, let the boy have his fun. I’m going to go look for his friends. If you find an Asian girl with a red scarf or a…how did he put it? Angry looking brunette with a key, let Armin know.” Marco directed to one guard, and then gestured for the other to follow after him as he moved towards the underground, whistling as he went along.

 Armin was in paradise as he roamed around the small, but completely full tent of books, skimming his fingers over all the covers. The woman running the shop must have seen him with Marco and she was completely flustered when he entered, going as far as to usher all of the other patrons out despite Armin’s protests and insistence on how it was unnecessary. He couldn’t deny that the luxury was nice and he was immediately drawn to the back of the shop where the encyclopedias and atlas’ resided. Previously he would have been cautious about someone paying for something for him, especially something so expensive, but after having lived in a palace, even for such a short time, he no longer felt the need to deny being pampered, especially by Marco.

“Excuse me miss, but could y-” Clutching the encyclopedia on sea creatures he found to his chest, Armin whirled around when someone spoke right by his ear, taking an instinctive step back against the shelf. “ _Armin.”_ The blonde found himself staring at the shocked faces of Eren and Mikasa, the latter who had whispered his name when he turned to face them. “Oh my gods. Eren! Mikasa! Ho-…Why are you here?!” His free hand clamped over his mouth after he finished speaking and the three were left staring at each other, surprise and confusion riddled over all their faces. “Armin. Armin! Come on, we’re going home.” Eren spoke first, breaking the silence when he moved forward to pull Armin into a hug, then grabbed the blonde’s thin wrist and made towards the door, pulling his friend forcefully behind him.

“Wait, no, _no Eren!_ Hold on, let me explain, please let go!” Armin practically whined, trying and failing to pull away from his much larger and stronger friend. “Eren, I can’t go with you, just let me ex- _no don’t hit him!”_ The warning came too late when Armin saw the guard approach, only to slam the butt of his sword into Eren’s forehead. Mikasa was on him in an instant, twisting the weapon out of his hands with vengeance in her eyes when Eren fell like a rock, knocked completely unconscious. He took Armin down with him and the blonde found himself groaning when his tailbone collided with the hard cobblestone beneath them. Somewhere behind them, the shop keeper was screaming about how Armin never paid for the book he was still clinging to. Several men who had been walking by jumped in to try to wrestle Mikasa off of the guard and Armin was torn between helping them, helping Eren or trying to reassure the shop keeper.

Scrambling to find his bearings, he was about to push Eren off and at least _attempt_ to settle things down when a voice broke through the chaos, loud and commanding in an effortless way. “Would anyone care to explain to me what is going on here?” Armin couldn’t help but marvel at how calm Marco managed to be in all situations when even the guard behind him had his hand ready on his sword, attention entirely focused on Mikasa who hadn’t yet been removed from the second unconscious man in the direct vicinity.

The men attempting to pry Mikasa off of the guard slowly backed off when they realized she had stopped her struggling, preferring to scowl up at the royal advisor instead. Marco gave her an even look then inclined his head towards the standing guard before moving past their bodies to roll Eren off of Armin and usher the blonde to his feet. “That’s it, up you go now. Are you hurt anywhere?” When Eren shook his head in response, unable to bring himself to meet Marco’s eyes, the freckled man continued. “That’s good, but you are filthy. Now I take it these are your friends who caused all of this ruckus?” A nod came this time and Marco sighed, then took Armin’s chin into his hand and forced the smaller man to look up at him. “You’re not in trouble. Give me that and I’ll pay for it for you while you collect your female friend and try to get the other to return to the land of the living.”

“Yes, Marco. I’m sorry.” The apology was brushed off and Marco moved to apologize to the shop owner while Armin stepped towards Mikasa. “Uh, ‘Kasa, please get off of him.” Armin could tell her cool eyes were boring into him as he squirmed in the streets, trying to defuse the scene as quickly as possible. “Armin, what’s going on?” She asked, her voice calm but clipped with impatience while she stood, brushed herself off, and then moved to wake Eren. “I was trying to explain before, but-” “But Eren was moving without listening as always, I know. Hey! Go get some water or smelling salts for him.” Mikasa demanded of the guard, who glared at her but complied all the same. Not that Armin could blame him. Mikasa was frightening when she wanted to be and he knew if he hadn’t met her when they were kids, Armin never would have been able to muster up the courage to speak to her.

The guard and Marco reappeared almost simultaneously, the advisor carrying the book Armin had picked out and the guard with water in one hand and a bag of what was presumed to be smelling salts in the other. Without a word, Marco moved Mikasa to the side and hoisted Eren up over his shoulder in one smooth movement and quietly requested that the guard do the same with his companion. “We’re going back to the palace and can talk there. May I assume you are the Mikasa I’ve heard so much about? If so it’s nice to meet you, though under regrettable circumstances. My name is Marco Bodt, I’m the advisor to the crown prince and Armin has been under my charge since we have admitted him as a servant in the palace. I’m sure he will fill you in on the whole story when we get back but in the meantime, Armin, why don’t you fill me in on what exactly happened back there?”

And so Armin recounted the events, though in his own words and with some smoothing to the edges of the story while they walked back, ensuring he mentioned time and time again that Eren was a hothead and didn’t mean to cause a scene. He knew Marco noticed how he rubbed at his wrist and the off way he was walking because the freckled man noticed just about _everything,_ but he didn’t say anything about it. Mikasa remained quiet, her eyes impassive, though they never strayed from Marco until finally Eren was set down on a bed in one of the smaller guest rooms.

It only took a few swipes of the smelling salts for Eren to groan and clutch at the front of his head, his eyes slowly fluttering open. “Holy crap what the fuck hit me?” He grumbled, rolling onto his side. “A sword.” Came Mikasa’s cool answer as she tilted her head to the side and regarded her brother on the bed. “Right, a sword. Why was I hit by a s- Armin!” He yelled, jolting up and looking wild eyed for his friend. He relaxed slightly when he met the blonde’s eyes, and then attempted to lunge for him, only to be stopped by Marco’s hand firmly planted on his chest. “I think it would be in your best interest to stay down for now. You must have a pretty nasty headache.” Marco said, completely ignoring the vicious glare Eren sent his way.

“Eren, please don’t say anything, he’s a good person.” Armin intervened before the hothead could snap on the advisor. Propping himself up on one arm Eren looked around the room, then set his sights on Armin, the question clear in his eyes. “I can explain now…if that’s okay.” He said, glancing at Marco and getting a nod in response. Settling down on the edge of the bed next to Eren, Armin cleared his throat before speaking. “Um so when the guards caught me for stealing that book, it turns out it belonged to a noble who brought me here. He wanted me executed, but the prince saved me and set me to work in a garden here instead and…I guess that’s about all there is to tell.”

The room was quiet for several moments as both Eren and Mikasa stared at him before Eren spoke again. “Seriously Armin? You’re seriously okay with being a slave here?” Armin could tell Marco took offence to the term with how his jaw tightened and he clenched his hands, so he squirmed uncomfortably, fiddling with his hands. “I’m not a slave. I’m just a servant, I work here and in return I get food and to be clean and clothing and a place to sleep…Eren, Mikasa, I think I really like it here. Everyone is kind and it’s better than anywhere I’ve ever lived before, even back home.”

His voice was gentle as he spoke, afraid of upsetting any of the people in the room by saying the wrong thing. “That’s understandable. If you’re happy, that’s all we want.” Armin couldn’t help but smile gratefully at Mikasa when she spoke, most of the tension leaving his shoulders with her words. Hopefully, whatever opinion she took to it Eren would follow. But his hope was shattered when Eren frantically shook his head, struggling to sit up on the bed. “No! No Mikasa! Don’t you get it? We’re not going to get to see him again. I’m sure fancy pants over there isn’t going to just let us just waltz on into the fucking royal palace of Trost whenever we want just to see our slave friend.” He hissed, scowling over at Marco while jerking his head in the advisor’s direction.

Used to this kind of behavior from Eren whenever something changed, Armin simply sighed and shook his head. “Eren, I’m not a slave. And…I’m sure I’ll get time to visit you sometimes. Besides, it’s not like I can leave anyway, I still need to work as punishment for taking that book.” He said in an even tone, resting his hand on Eren’s bicep and giving it a reassuring squeeze. Eren opened his mouth to say something else, but Marco intervened then, taking a step away from the wall he had been leaning against. “ _Actually,_ because you’ve been such an asset Armin, I may have a solution that will keep everyone happy. I couldn’t help but notice that you have a talent in combat, no?” He asked and glanced at Mikasa, but received no reply. “So I thought perhaps you would like to enroll in the military and work as a guard here at the palace, we’re always looking for new recruits who actually know what they’re doing.”

“Hey! What about me? I know how to fight.” Marco looked at Eren with obvious doubt in his eyes, but sighed and shrugged his shoulders all the same. “If you can prove that you know what you’re doing, I’m sure we’ll take you as well.” The freckled man said. “Oh, thank you Marco! This is amazing, thank you so much, we’ll do whatever you need us to I swear.” Armin cried, throwing his arms around the advisor and wrapping him in a tight hug. He could feel the older man chuckle as he pet the blonde’s head and tucked some stray strands of hair behind his ear while Armin beamed up at him. “Bu-” Eren started, only to clamp his mouth shut when Armin and Mikasa both set their sights upon him, their eyes cold and stern. “Eren, either you join the military and work as a guard and we can see each other or you have to wait until my punishment is over. Please, I don’t want to lose you. We’re all the family we’ve got left, the three of us.” He said, breaking away from Marco to take his friends hand.

“You can have the night to think it over if you’d like.” Marco spoke up again, watching the two of them interact closely. Looking defeated, and probably starting to get woozy from his head injury, Eren sighed and slowly nodded, dropping back down onto the bed. “Good. Would you like another room or would you like to stay in this one? There is one attached through the bathroom.” Marco addressed Mikasa again. “That sounds nice, thank you.” Her facial expression didn’t change, but Armin recognized the honesty in her voice and positively warmed the room with his smile. “Wonderful. If you need anything, just stick your head out and ask for someone. Armin, we need to get you a bath, come on now.” He said, finalizing the conversation with a jerk of his head towards the door.

Armin gave quick goodbyes to his friends, promising to talk to them again in the morning, and then departed by Marco’s side, exhaustion beginning to settle in his bones. “Undress and get in the water, I need to grab a change of clothing for us.” Armin obeyed Marco without any complaints this time, more than happy to relax into their ritual in the wash room. He stripped himself of his clothing quickly, only then realizing just how covered in dirt it had gotten from his fall. He had picked up on cleanliness from Marco and typically got less dirty even while gardening. Throwing the cloth into a corner, he settled down in the water with a happy sigh and dipped his head back, staying there until he heard the door open.

Expecting Marco, he turned his head towards the door with a shy smile, only to squeal and curl into himself to cover his nudity when he was greeted by a furious looking Jean.


End file.
